


Spring Break

by traitorsinlove



Series: For The Love of Bellarke [14]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 23:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10685271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traitorsinlove/pseuds/traitorsinlove
Summary: This began as a songfic based on 'Yeah Boy' by Kelsea Ballerini, but it just kind of morphed into its own thing. Enjoy!





	Spring Break

Clarke tipped back the red cup in her hands and quickly swallowed the last of its contents, which added to the slowly growing fire in her belly. The music was reverberating throughout Monty’s parents’ beach house, and it was starting to make her temples throb in protest.

She sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter between her two of her best friends, Monty Green and Jasper Jordan. The two science geeks had befriended Clarke their sophomore year of high school and been inseparable since. Now they were partying at the Green’s beach house for spring break their senior year of college.

“Where’s Raven?” Clarke called loudly to Monty who was swaying in time with the bass-heavy music.

Monty’s dark eyebrows furrowed in question as he searched the room. “I don’t see her in here. Maybe she’s outside?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Knowing her, she’s probably flirting it up with a group of hunks. I’m gonna go find her.”

Clarke slid off the barstool and began edging her way around the edge of the living room that also served as the main dancefloor. She walked into the dining room with no luck of finding her best friend. Raven and Clarke met their first semesters of college, and hit it off right away. Raven as studying mechanical engineering, and was eager to prove her brains to anyone she thought of as competition.

Clarke made her way past the various deepthroating couples along the dimly lit hallway and into the rec room. She glanced around the room until her eyes landed on a familiar head of dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Raven Reyes was exactly where Clarke would have guessed she would have been—perched happily on some guy’s lap, one arm casually flung around his neck, and a drunk, flirty smile on her lips.

“Clarke!” Raven called loudly as she approached.

“Hey, Ray,” Clarke smiled wryly, “You having fun?”

Raven snickered. “You know it, Griffin! Just showing these guys a thing or two about the knowledge I got stored up here!” Raven tapped her temple emphatically.

Clarke nodded, her attempts to stifle a laugh barely successful. Raven always was an entertaining drunk.

“Alright, well, you try not to have too much fun, alright?” Clarke suggested.

“Ha! You try not to have too much fun without _me_ , Mother Hen!” Raven crowed. Clarke chuckled before retreating from the rec room and making her way back to Monty and Jasper in the other room.

Clarke shook her head. Raven wasn’t going to remember a thing about tonight when she woke up in the morning.

Clarke returned to her perch on the barstool and reached for her cup.

Her bottom lip formed a cute pout as she turned to Jasper. “Jasper, my cup’s empty.”

“So I see.” Jasper replied as he peered into the plastic object.

“Would you be the bestest friend in the world and get me some more beer?” Clarke smiled sweetly as she batted her eyelashes at him.

Jasper rolled his eyes. “Fine.” He huffed before pushing away from the counter in search of the keg.

Clarke laughed in triumph while Monty simply shook his head, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

Clarke’s laughter was dying down when her eyes fell upon the front door, where a dark headed girl—probably a year or so younger than Clarke—and a tall curly haired man came in.

Clarke’s stomach clenched, almost uncomfortably, and her eyes were glued to the tall stranger.

“Who’s that?” Clarke motioned her head to the couple.

Monty’s eyes darted to the door. “Oh. _That_ is the famous Octavia Blake and her older brother, Bellamy. Octavia is that girl is Jasper’s chemistry class that he never shuts up about.”

Clarke nodded, her mouth dumb. She remembered Jasper being over the moon about some girl named Octavia. He never had the guts to actually talk to her, until the week before spring break when he invited her to the party.

Clarke doesn’t realize that she’s staring until his eyes meet hers. His dark curls are kept tamed by a blue baseball cap, which also happens to shade his eyes, making them an even darker brown than they already are. Those eyes were gorgeous, and all Clarke wanted to do was to sketch them—her hand was literally itching for a pencil.

Bellamy seemed to notice the effect he was having on her because he cocked a playful eyebrow at her and smirked before his attention being called away by his sister.

“You okay over there?” She heard Monty ask, his eyebrows disappearing into his hairline.

Clarke smiled and painfully broke her gaze away from Bellamy. “Yeah, fine.”

Monty shot her a look of disbelief then glanced back at Bellamy. “Ah, I see. Clarke sees something she wants.”

“What’d I miss?” Jasper chimed as he returned to hand Clarke her beer.

“Nothing.” Clarke quipped.

Monty guffawed. “Right. _Nothing_. Our very own Clarke here, has set her sights on a poor helpless victim.”

“Oh boy, this should be good,” Jasper rubbed his hands together and his eyes bulged in excitement. “Who is the unlucky, I mean, lucky guy?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and punched Jasper on the arm.

“Ow! Hey, I need that arm to work properly, thank you very much.” Jasper whined playfully.

“Oh, whatever, you big baby.” Clarke muttered before burying her face in her cup. When Clarke’s eyes returned to the room around her, she’s greeted by the beautiful face of Bellamy Blake.

Clarke’s mouth hung open for what felt like an eternity before Monty literally snapped her out of it.

“Clarke,” He began, his eyes wanting to roll to the ceiling. “This is Octavia; you know, the one we’ve heard so much about, and her brother, Bellamy.”

Clarke heard the verbal hint in Monty’s introduction and subtly winks at him.

“Oh, right,” Clarke extended her hand to Octavia. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Like Monty said, we’ve heard so much about you.”

Octavia beamed. “Oh, really? What have you heard?”

“Only that you’re the smartest girl in your chemistry class. Right, Jasper?” Clarke asked innocently as she glanced over at the man in question.

“Right.” Jasper sputtered, looking like a deer in the headlights. Clarke grinned before turning to Monty. They each held up their hands towards each other and high-fived themselves.

Clarke glanced at Bellamy and found his gaze fixed on her. The desire to etch those dark orbs onto a piece of rough paper was so great that Clarke’s hand literally began to shake.

“You alright?” Bellamy asked, gesturing to her hand.

“Oh, yeah. Sometimes I just feel the need to draw stuff, and it physically presents itself. It’s a pain in the butt, really.” Clarke stammered, as she shoved her hand into the pocket of her hoodie.

“Oh, you’re an artist?” Bellamy’s brows quirked in question.

“I wish.” Clarke murmured, tucking a stray curl behind her ear nervously.

“Whatever!” Monty and Jasper crow simultaneously.

Clarke felt heat rising to her cheeks at her friends’ praise. “I’m an art major.”

“Oh, nice,” Bellamy responded. “Do you have any of your work here?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s upstairs in my room. But it’s not that great.” Clarke smiled shyly.

“Chicken.” Monty coughed suspiciously.

“O, why don’t you hang out here with your buddy, Jasper, while Clarke shows me her work?” Bellamy smiled over at Clarke, without a hint of ulterior motive in them.

Clarke blinked in surprise. She didn’t consider herself to be the hottest girl out there, but she did know that she did have a nice body, and that’s what most guys saw in her, especially the last time she was with someone. To see that Bellamy was genuinely interested in her art, and wasn’t looking to just get in her pants once they got up to her room struck Clarke deep in her gut.

Something about this man was different, and it excited her.

“It’s this way.” Clarke murmured as she slid off the stool once again and made her way to the stairs.

Once the couple was safely out of earshot or visual range, Monty and Jasper promptly high-fived themselves in success. Clarke hadn’t had anyone in her life in nearly two years, and in their humble opinions, it was about time she found somebody.

Clarke led Bellamy up the stairs, unsure of what to say to fill the silence. The thumping music echoed through the walls and couples stood making out along the hallway leading to Clarke’s room.

“Let’s just hope my room hasn’t been taken over by a, uh, excited couple?” Clarke chuckled as she glanced back at Bellamy who laughed in response. Clarke noticed the way his mouth lifted to one side, the lines that curved up there, and the muscles in her hand literally ached. Clarke tentatively opened her door, relieved to find her room completely devoid of human presence.

“So how long have you been drawing?” Bellamy asked as he stood beside the dresser while Clarke rummaged through her backpack for her portfolio.

“Since I was three,” She chuckled nervously as she removed the black folder and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ve always loved it, even more so than painting or sculpting.”

Bellamy didn’t immediately reply, and Clarke glanced up at him. Clarke took the moment to fully take in the demanding presence that was Bellamy Blake. His eyes were a rich brown, his face was speckled with numerous freckles, and his blue jeans hugged him in all the right places. He removed his ballcap, and motioned to the bed.

“May I?” He asked carefully.

“Of course.” Clarke answered before clearing her suddenly dry throat. She held out the folder to him, allowing his full access to her work—a privilege not granted to very many people.

Bellamy was silent for several moments before humming quietly.

“This one is different than the others.” He remarked softly, pointing to the charcoal sketch of Jake Griffin.

Clarke was intrigued by his observation. She herself knew that this one was different, but not many people could see that fact.

“What makes you say that?” She asked curiously.

“There’s a sadness to the lines. The strokes you used in the edges of his face are darker than the other pieces, indicating emotion and sadness.” Bellamy’s voice was soft in the quiet bedroom.

Clarke began to feel the burning behind her eyes, and quickly blinked the tears away. But not quickly enough to escape Bellamy’s notice.

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s the cop in me.” Bellamy quickly apologized as he searched for a box of tissues.

“You’re fine,” Clarke sniffed as Bellamy handed her the disposable kerchiefs. “It’s just that no one has ever seen that difference before. I always have because… I felt it, I knew it was present when I drew that picture. It’s just great to find someone who sees what I do.”

Bellamy smiled softly at her, despite the puffy eyes and red-rimmed nose. They were silent for several moments before Bellamy spoke again.

“Do you mind if I ask… Who is this?” Bellamy murmured, afraid of upsetting the blonde beside him.

“It’s my dad.” Clarke admits quietly.

Bellamy nodded, not pressing the subject further. He seemed to understand the exact reason why she drew the picture without her verbalizing anything, and she not only respected him for that, but it caused a flutter in her stomach and a tightness in her chest that she had never felt before.

Clarke wasn’t sure why she kept going, but something about Bellamy just seemed…right.

“He died three years ago. Cancer.” She supplied quietly.

Bellamy nodded in understanding, silently supporting her despite only knowing her for all of five minutes.

“I’m sorry.” He said. Clarke murmured her thanks before settling back to look at the pictures in Bellamy’s hands. Clarke became distracted by his hands. They looked so strong, ready to take on any challenge that rose against him. Well, he was a cop, after all.

“I lost my mom.” He admitted softly.

“I’m sorry.” Clarke’s focus was back on Bellamy’s face, but she found little to no sorrow there, unlike her own.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” Bellamy smiled softly, his gaze sweeping over Clarke’s face before pausing at her lips.

Clarke felt a lump ride in her throat, her stomach swirling in all directions. She glanced up at Bellamy before suddenly turning back to the pictures.

“So,” She quipped. “Which one is your favorite?”

Bellamy chuckled softly before tapping the corner of the page housing Jake’s portrait. “This one.”

“Mine too.” Clarke smiled softly. Once again, Bellamy’s gaze flitted over Clarke’s face. His eyes were home to comfort, strength, and something unrecognizable to Clarke. She knew that she wasn’t making a mistake in this moment—Bellamy was _safe_.

Clarke’s breathing slowed nearly to a full stop as Bellamy leaned towards her, his lips slightly parted, and his hot breath ghosting across her cheeks. Clarke felt her eyes slip closed as she slowly closed the gap between them, his lips a gentle pressure against hers.

They were perfectly in sync as their mouths moved slowly against each other’s. Bellamy tasted sweet and pure while Clarke tasted slightly of alcohol mixed with a taste completely her own. Bellamy widened his mouth to deepen the kiss, and Clarke eagerly accepted his invitation. Their tongues fought for dominance in a slow, sensual method.

Bellamy had never kissed or been kissed like this before, and he was feeling slightly dizzy from the experience. Clarke knew that Bellamy was different to any other person she had ever been remotely intimate with.

Both were so lost in the new and exciting emotions circling their hearts and fogging their brains that they didn’t hear the bedroom door open. They had no idea they were being watched until Monty and Jasper hooted in a supportive cheer.

“Get some, Clarke!” Jasper yelled before Octavia, cackling, shut the door.

Bellamy and Clarke broke apart, out of breath, grins planted firmly on both of their faces.

“So that happened.” Bellamy panted softly.

“Yeah.” Clarke chuckled breathlessly.

“Think we could make that a regular thing?” Bellamy asked, his eyebrow raised suggestively.

Clarke bit her lip. “I think something could be arranged.”

Bellamy grinned before being pinned to the bedspread and attacked by the fiery blonde in his arms, the sketches long forgotten.


End file.
